


Wish You Were Here

by PeakyFookinBlinders (Sherlocked729)



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alfie can still walk around without a cane for the most part, Alfie is basically Finn's dad now, Alfie's still in Camden town instead of Margate, Angst, Bisexual Disaster Tommy Shelby, Blood, Drinking, Finn is currently 17 years old at the start of this fic, Fluff, Gen, Guilt, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Protective Alfie Solomons, Recreational Drug Use, S1 Alfie though, S1 Tommy too, Self-Hatred, Shooting, Smoking, Suicidal Thoughts, Surgery: Peaky Blinders style, Takes place about three months after Aberama's death, Talks about Sex and Sexual Orientation, Tommy and Finn are hot messes, but S5 Spoilers, everyone is sad and everything hurts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:14:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26722726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlocked729/pseuds/PeakyFookinBlinders
Summary: Jimmy McCavern and his Billy Boys opened fire one night inside of the Garrison when Tommy Shelby and his entire family were inside it, celebrating. Arthur, Lizzie, Aunt Polly, Jeremiah, Charlie, Michael, and Gina were the consequences of those bullets.Finn, Johnny Dogs, Isaiah, Ada, and Tommy were the only survivors, along with a handful of his men who had been elsewhere that night. Finn is now living with Tommy and Alfie in Camden town because of Finn’s nightmares and panic attacks. Alfie has become a beacon of light for both Tommy and Finn in an otherwise dark world. The question that needs an answer is if Alfie will be able to help Tommy keep his sanity long enough to protect the rest of his family from ending up in graves as well.
Relationships: Ada Shelby & Finn Shelby, Ada Shelby & Tommy Shelby, Alfie Solomons & Finn Shelby, Finn Shelby & Tommy Shelby, Isaiah Jesus/Finn Shelby, James (Peaky Blinders) & Tommy Shelby, Tommy Shelby & Isaiah Jesus, Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41





	1. see them soon

**Author's Note:**

> So I needed to write this for reasons. Please don't hate me. I hope you like it as well, though.  
> This isn't going to be a happy story, but there will be bits of happiness splashed in here and there.

**. . .**

  
_\-- Six months since the tragedy at the Garrison --_

Tommy jolted out of bed when he heard his youngest brother half screaming, half crying. He hurried to the spare bedroom where he saw Finn digging his nails into his palms fiercely, causing them to bleed as he sobbed, almost choking.

He firmly grabbed Finn’s hands and forced him to open up his palms. “Hey, it’s all right, brother! You’re all right, eh? Come on now… you’re all right…”

Finn was shaking his head vigorously, his eyes shut tightly as his chest heaved and he wailed and yelled. Tommy wrapped his arms around Finn and held him close. It stopped him from hurting himself any further, and it seemed to provide a comfort as well.

Finn had nightmares during the night, nearly every single night after the shooting at the Garrison had happened, but less so now that he had moved himself in with Alfie and Tommy. He still had nightmares sometimes at night, and he also appeared to be prone to panic attacks during the day, and in certain situations.

Ada, one of the few survivors from that night, offered to take him in with her and James, but it hadn’t worked out well. He had accidentally hurt James during one of his nightmares, and Ada had felt so helpless.

Isaiah, haven’t lost his own father, had thought it’d be helpful to have Finn live with him at Tommy’s old place since he had left. It had seemed to help Finn at first, living with someone his own age, but Isiah was still reeling from losing his father, that he could barely help himself, forget Finn. Neither young man was taking care of himself.

So now, here Finn was with Tommy and Alfie in Camden town, and here was where he would stay for the unforeseeable future, not that either man minded very much, of course.

Alfie and Thomas weren’t “together” in the sense that they were a couple, only biblically. Tommy was surprised how quickly his lover had taken to helping taking care of the lad, though. He treated him like he was his own.

“I-I saw t-them,” Finn started to calm down a bit, but was still whimpering, sniffling as his older brother still held him from behind, an arm wrapped around his chest. “I s-saw Arthur and… and e-everyone, lying on the floor, Tom, just… covered in blood…”

“Shhh,” Tommy cooed softly. “It’s all right, Finn. They’re at rest now. They’re not in pain anymore.”

Finn nodded slowly, absently, leaning against Tommy’s chest as sweat beaded against the younger Shelby’s face. He took a deep breath, like they had practiced during nights like these, and during his panic attacks. It was a trick Ada had suggested to Tommy on a particularly frustrating night.

“I miss them,” he whispered, almost inaudibly. “I miss Aunt Pol, and Arthur… Lizzie, Charlie, all of ‘em, Tommy. I want them back. I want to see them…”

Tommy sighed heavily, feeling the same pain in his own heart. He gently let Finn go now and turned him around before he placed a soft hand on the back of his brother’s head, leaning his forehead against Finn’s lightly.

“You’ll see them again one day, Finn. I promise you. We both will, eh?” Finn nodded weakly against him. “Good, now try and get some sleep. It’ll be all right. You’re safe here.”

Finn nodded in understanding, and Tommy stood up before he turned the lights out and headed back towards the bedroom he shared with Alfie.

He wasn’t surprised to see Alfie sitting up in bed reading, taking his glasses down when he saw Tommy enter, a concerned expression on his face. “The lad all right?”

Tommy nodded and crawled back into the bed beside him. “Yes, Alfie. Finn will be all right.”

“That’s good. I’ve never seen anyone have these strange episodic nightmares before,” Alfie admitted, looking over at him. “I don’t think he’s ever going to stop having them, mate.”

Tommy secretly didn’t think so as well, but there were some nights he had nightmares from That Night as well. They weren’t as severe as the ones that his brother had, but perhaps that was because sometimes his deceased family members still came back to haunt him during his waking hours.

“Most of his kin were murdered in cold blood, Alfie, and Finn’s still young. It’s only been six months. I’m sure it’s going to take him awhile to get through it and move on,” Tommy replied quietly.

Alfie gave a nod and looked at him. “And you’re handling it in a completely healthy manner, right. It hasn’t affected you in the least,” his voice dripped heavily with sarcasm.

“I’m handling it in my own way.”

“Right,” Alfie nodded. “By not sleeping, drowning in drink and smoke, and rollin’ in the snow. Those are completely healthy coping mechanisms, I’m sure. At least you’re not seeing your family walkin’ about during the day anymore.”

Tommy shook his head, not about to tell Alfie the truth. He hated how much the other man fussed over him as it was. Alfie let the subject drop now and reached down to lace his fingers with Tommy’s on the bed, gently running his thumb over his hand soothingly.

Tommy let him, and then did the same to his hand. It was a comforting gesture that had somehow become their norm.

He wasn’t sure what kind of relationship this was with Alfie, but the truth of the matter was, he didn’t care. When the shooting in Small Heath had happened, Tommy had felt so fucking lost. _So fucking hopeless._

He had put his pistol to his temple, playing the Russian roulette game that Tatiana Petrovna had taught him. She really was right, though.

It did set him free.

He wasn’t afraid to die, but after seeing what Finn and Isaiah were both going through, he realized that he couldn’t let himself die yet. He needed to take care of them, now that Arthur was gone, as well as Jeremiah. Tommy felt responsible for them.

Tommy and Alfie had been sleeping together before the shooting, unbeknownst to everyone else besides Ollie in Camden and Ada and James in Small Heath. It had purely been physical, perhaps even emotional to a certain extent, but Tommy and Alfie never called it love, or even spoke the L word at all.

It was a close friendship, in Tommy’s eyes. He felt _something_ for Alfie, but perhaps not love. The closest word he could find was respect and in that sense, it was a mutual feeling.

When Finn moved in with them, Tommy felt the need to let Finn know about their relationship. The young man seemed confused, but he accepted it. Perhaps it was too soon since the tragedy, and Finn was only able to wrap his mind around one confusing event at a time.

Regardless, Alfie and Tommy both made attempts to be quiet when they were together.

The truth was that him and Finn were both disasters right now, and from the way Alfie always looked at him, was looking at him right now in this moment, he knew this fact.

“Don’t look at me like that, Alfie,” Tommy pleaded, shaking his head. “I don’t want pity.”

Alfie’s eyes grew guilty, and he sighed before he looked down at his book, but it was evident he wasn’t actually reading from it. “How do you want me to look at you, Tom?”

“I want you to look at me like you don’t feel sorry for me. I want you to look at me like you used to, Alfie,” he answered tiredly. “When we were business associates.”

“Oh, so basically from a time when all I wanted to do was put a bullet between your Gypo eyes. Is that it, Tom? You want me to look at you when I loathed the very sight of you?”

Tommy nodded slowly, feeling a thick blanket of sadness and heaviness cloak him, just as it did since That Night. “Yes, like that.”

Alfie shut his book now and turned to look at him with soft eyes. “Well, I’m sorry to be the one to fuckin’ disappoint you, mate, but that’s just not happenin’. I don’t loathe you anymore, and I know why you want that,” he didn’t wait for Tommy to ask why. “You think you fucking deserve that, don’t you? You think it was your fault that your family members were shot by a bunch of fuckin’ fascist pricks while you was all celebratin’ your birthday.”

Tommy forced himself to meet the other man’s eyes now. He hated more than anything that this man knew him inside and out. It felt impossible to keep anything from him. “It is, Alfie. It was my fault.”

“No,” Alfie said firmly, shaking his head again. “It wasn’t, Tom. I admit was a bit silly of you not to have men protectin’ the outside of your street not long after what happened to that Gypsy kin of yours, Gold… but… what happened wasn’t on you. That was those Scots, wasn’t it? Those are the real men to blame, right.”

Tommy nodded in acknowledgement. He felt bad for Alfie; the Camden man has been giving him this speech for six months straight, trying his best to drill it into his head that it wasn’t Tommy’s fault. Thomas Shelby tried, he tried so hard, but he just couldn’t believe the words.

He wondered how much longer until Alfie gave up and stopped telling him this.

“I want to hear you say it, Tom,” Alfie spoke kindly.

Tommy rubbed his eyes and sighed, fighting the urge to light a cigarette, knowing how much his smoking was displeasing to Alfie. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“Good, that’s what I like to hear from you.”

Of course Tommy didn’t believe the words this time either, but it made Alfie happy enough to hear him say the words aloud. They felt hollow, empty, untrue. There was no possible way that Tommy could believe the words.

He could’ve done _something._

In his own defense, he did try. He had took his pistol out from his shoulder holster and started shooting at Jimmy McCavern. He hit his shoulder, but him and his men had hurried away after finishing what they had come there for.

They could’ve killed Thomas Shelby easily, but he had a strong feeling they had kept him alive on purpose, so he could suffer knowing that most of his family were dead now.

It was pure luck that Curly had been in the countryside with Scudboat and Johnny Dogs that same night. The three of them, plus a handful of other Peaky Blinders had managed to avoid the attack.

In his mind, though, Tommy hadn’t done enough. Once the Scots had disappeared, Tommy ran over to each of them, trying to feel for a pulse. Finn had been shot as well, but in a moment of adrenaline, Tommy had managed to get the bullet out of his leg with a razor from his hat. Thankfully, it hadn’t hit any vital arteries.

“Tommy? Tom! Come back to me now, mate, yeah?”

He had let his mind go _there_ again. Tommy swallowed hard as he forced himself to come back to the present, and he blinked, looking back over at Alfie. “It’s early, but if you want, we can get up and get a start on the day.”

Tommy shook his head and turned the lights off. “We should get some sleep.” He didn’t know if he’d be able to fall asleep now, but he curled against Alfie who wrapped his arms around the slender man and held him, just as he had done so many nights before.

“We need to get some more meat back on those bones, mate. You’re gettin’ smaller by the day.”

Tommy didn’t say anything, but a part of him knew that Alfie was right. He was smoking more than he was eating, and when he did eat, it wasn’t very much. His clothes were fitting looser on him, uncomfortably so.

He closed his eyes, hoping that Finn would be able to get some sleep at least, even if he couldn’t.


	2. wild

**. . .**

Tommy woke up some hours later to see the sun shining unmercifully in the room, and Alfie gone. He sighed heavily and rolled onto his back, staring out the window. Waking up here in Camden town wasn’t anything like waking up back at home.

He could see the brick houses outside the window. The atmosphere was different, though. Here, he could wake up alone, and not feel lonely. Small Heath held too many memories; it was just filled with ghosts now. Everywhere he looked, he saw someone he had loved.

He saw Aunt Pol in the betting shop, counting the money and nagging the younger lads. He saw Lizzie when he walked down the street, seeing her smile and hear her voice. Tommy saw Arthur every time he walked in the Garrison. He saw Michael every time he stepped in his office, expecting to hear him challenge him on things, making attempts to negotiate a place for him and Gina.

As awful as he was, Tommy even missed him.

There were too many memories back home, but it felt safer here.

He listened as the raindrops tapped on the window and then reached over and lit a cigarette before he sat up in the bed, looking out.

“You don’t deserve his love, Tom.”

He glanced over now and saw Lizzie sitting on the bed beside him, straightening out her torn dress. There was blood running down her chest from where the spray of bullets had gotten her. “It’s not love, Lizzie,” he spoke quietly.

He saw her smoking now and she exhaled some smoke out before she shook her head and smirked. “Of course he loves you, Tom. If he didn’t, do you really think he would’ve let you and Finn live here? I must confess, I’m surprised he’s put up with you this long.”

Tommy took a deep breath, trying to will her away. He didn’t need to hear his unconscious thoughts this early in the morning.

“I saw you crying, when you visited my grave,” ghost Lizzie replied coolly.

Tommy rubbed his eyes and then took a drag of his own cigarette before he cleared his dry thought. “Of course I did; you were my wife. I loved you, Lizzie.”

“If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t have let me died. You would’ve thrown your body in front of me to protect me from those bullets,” Lizzie half chided.

“I was scared, Lizzie,” he whispered meekly.

She scoffed. “Useless, more like. Cowardly. And what did you do with our children? You dropped them off with Johnny Dogs and basically told him and the Lees to raise them. You visit them, what, once every four months? I’m surprised they even remember who you are.”

“Be quiet, Lizzie,” Tommy finally ordered, shaking his head. “Go away.”

“How can I go away if I’m not actually here? Remember, Tom, I’m only in your head,” she stated before she suddenly disappeared.

He rubbed his eyes again and took a deep breath. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and looked over to see Alfie with a cup of tea in his hands.

“Ay, you’re finally awake! Here, I can tell it’s going to be one of those days today, so I brought your tea to you,” he handed the cup over to Tommy, who gratefully took it.

“Thank you, Alfie,” he spoke softly before he took a sip.

Alfie sat in a chair nearby and watched Tommy. “When you’re done with that, would you come downstairs? I’ve made some breakfast for us. I thought we could all eat together for once.”

Since they had moved in, Alfie had eaten most of his meals alone. Finn either passed on meals or chose to take something into his guest room to eat by himself, and Tommy would skip the meals altogether. It was clear that that was going to change, however.

“Is Finn downstairs?” Tommy took another drag from his cigarette.

“Yeah,” Alfie nodded. “He is. He’s already had some tea, but I thought if you came down, I could make some toast and jam for the two of you, or maybe some brown bread I baked earlier with a bit of butter.”

Tommy raised a brow and looked up at him. “By bread, you mean rum.”

Alfie shook his head. “No, by bread, I mean fucking bread, Tom! Christ, I _do_ bake, you know, mate. Believe it or not, I bake actual fucking bread. Now get out of bed and find your way down to us.”

He stood up and didn’t wait for a reply before he headed downstairs again. Tommy remained lying in the bed and watched out the window, sipping his tea. He let it warm his bones up enough to drag himself out of bed, and started to get dressed in the bare minimum, which today was a button down shirt and trousers.

He splashed cold water on his face and cleaned up a bit before he made his way downstairs, sitting next to Finn, across from Alfie at the table. He gave Finn a once-over. It was clear he hadn’t gone back to sleep since this morning’s nightmare.

Tommy reluctantly nibbled at his toast and saw Finn do the same, but he looked distant. “All right, Finn?”

The question seemed to snap his brother out of things, and he looked over at Tom, giving a nod. “Yeah, I’m all right. Just thinking.”

Alfie was watching the two of them interact, but didn’t dare to share his input as he started eating some of his own bread and sipped coffee.

“What are you thinking about?” Tommy asked, as if he even had to ask in the first place. What else was there to think about for them right now?

Finn gave a shrug. but Tommy could see fresh tears in his eyes. He swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat. “What are we going to do about what happened to our family, Tom?” Finn asked weakly.

Thomas Shelby glanced across the table at Alfie who gave him a firm, knowing look as if telling him: _remember what we talked about last night._ He cleared his throat again and took another sip of his tea. He shook his head at Finn.

“We’re not going to do anything, brother.”

Finn’s brows knitted in confusion and he looked over at Tommy. “What do you mean? Those fucking savages killed half our family, Tom! We can’t just… sit here and do nothing! We need to kill all of them.”

Finn’s own need for blood surprised Tommy. He hadn’t spoken like this before, and it almost startled him to hear his youngest brother wish for someone else’s death. To hear Finn want vengeance was a foreign concept to Thomas, but he knew Alfie was right about what they had discussed last night, or rather, this morning.

“No, Finn. It has to end. Let it end with their deaths, and let them be at peace, eh?”

Finn suddenly slammed a fist on the table in frustration, spilling Alfie’s coffee over the top edge of his cup. He didn’t say anything, though. Instead, he reached for a napkin and started to clean it up.

“That’s bollocks, Tommy! Arthur would want blood! So would Pol!”

At least Finn had the good sense to know that Lizzie and Michael both wanted peace for the family and opposed going to war with other gangs most of the time. Tommy helped Alfie clean up the spilled coffee before he looked over at Finn with firm eyes.

“Arthur and Pol would want what’s best for the family, Finn. Now stop this! We’re not fucking with the Billy Boys anymore. What’s done is done.”

Finn shook his head in disgust at Tommy’s decision and huffed before he suddenly stood up and knocked his chair over violently. He made his way towards the front door.

“Finn!” Tommy yelled, going over to him now. “Where’re you goin’?”

“For a walk, I can’t be here right now.”

Tommy watched as his hands shook and he reached over and grabbed Finn’s shoulder holster and handed it to him. “Don’t use it unless you’re forced to. I mean it, Finn.”

His brother grabbed the holster and put it on quickly before he stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Tommy sighed and walked back to Alfie, apology in his eyes.

“I remember when I was his age,” Alfie spoke calmly, taking a bite of bread. “Being that age is rough, Tom, you know? Besides your brother John, I suspect this was the worst family death there’s been, isn’t it? Just need to give the lad time to cool off. He’ll come home when he’s ready.”

_Home._

That’s what Alfie was calling Camden town now. This wasn’t Tommy’s home, but Small Heath didn’t feel like home anymore either.

“I shouldn’t have let him go,” Tommy spoke with regret. “He’s in danger out there with McCavern still walking around.”

“Nah, Tom. I reckon that bastard did all the damage to you he wanted to that night at your pub. He wanted to hurt you, right, and he did that by killing most of your family members, and some of your muscle as well, didn’t he? It’s you and Finn and your sister who’s suffering the most right now, mate. That’s what he really wants, and that’s what he has, so Finn’s safe.”

Tommy wanted to believe Alfie’s words so much, but nothing felt safe anymore. He felt like Jimmy McCavern and his Billy Boys were going to jump out from the next building and slit both his throat as well as Finn’s before paying Ada a visit.

Tommy didn’t say anything. He knew Alfie meant well. It was one of the things that Tommy liked about Alfie; he was always honest to his face, and his intentions were always true.

He took another drag of his cigarette, but Alfie reached over and plucked it out of his fingers before he snubbed it into the ashtray on the table. “No more fags for you until you’re able to eat at least two full meals a day.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m already grown. I don’t need you to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

Alfie scoffed at that. “It looks to me like you do, actually, Tom. You can’t seem to eat one full meal, forget two. You’re losing bloody weight because you’re smoking like a fucking chimney! Between the cigarettes and the cocaine, it’s not surprising you don’t have any appetite, yeah.”

Tommy didn’t like being treated like a child, but he realized the more stubborn he became, the more he realized he was acting like Finn.

He started to take proper bites from his toast now and saw Alfie nod in approval before he looked down at his paper and started to read. Tommy quietly ate his breakfast, all of it, but his mind was still on his brother.

He thought of Ada and James, and Isaiah back in Small Heath. He hoped they were safe and taking care of each other. He worried more about Isaiah, though, Jeremiah’s son. He had taken his father’s death pretty badly. Not that there was a good way to have taken it, of course.

He finished his breakfast, and then his tea. He watched Alfie read the paper in silence, and felt the urge to share some physical contact with him. He reached under the table and placed his hand on Alfie’s knee gently before he caressed it almost timidly.

Alfie smirked playfully. “A little bit towards the middle, sweetie.”

This made Tommy chuckle now and he shook his head at Alfie. “You’re a prick.” He shared a smile with the other man who shrugged before he reached down and placed his hand on top of Tommy’s before he held it in his own.

Tommy smiled to himself, letting himself enjoy this moment. It was an odd arrangement. He tried to think back to how they even came to be together: Tommy had been in bad sorts after That Night, he had drank, and somehow found his way here to Camden town, to Alfie’s doorstep. The other man had been surprised, and even on edge at the sudden intrusion, but he had let the Shelby man inside his home, listened to him cry for almost an hour, and then drink some more, and then, Tommy had pressed his lips against Alfie’s.

Alfie had been more surprised than upset. Then, to Tommy’s own surprise, he kissed him back. One thing led to another, and the two men found each other in bed together, letting their bare skin dance as they clumsily fucked.

It had been messy and sad, but it had also been passionate and electrifying at the same time. Ever since then, Tommy had felt a strong attraction for Alfie like he had never felt before. He could make Thomas Shelby feel _something_ again, instead of horrible sorrow or numbness.

He caressed Alfie’s hand gently, looking out the kitchen window at the rain, hoping that his kid brother wouldn’t do anything stupid while he was out running around out there with his gun.

They sat like that for an hour, and then moved into the living area, but every minute that went by, Tommy could feel his chest tightening uncomfortably as anxiety nestled into it and made a home.

“Would you stop looking at the bloody clock for two seconds, Tom?” Alfie pleaded, catching the man glimpsing to see what time it was, or rather, how long it had been. “For Christ’s sake, mate, you’re worse than a bloody whore.”

Tommy sighed impatiently and paced, hating this waiting. He needed to do something, so he wasn’t waiting for his brother to come back.

It was almost five in the evening when Finn finally walked through the door and staggered into the loo. Tommy tried to keep his temper in check as he walked over to the open doorway and saw his brother’s appearance.

His knuckles were cut up and bleeding. His face was bleeding a bit as well, and it was obvious that Finn had been drinking. Tommy wet his lips and watched him run his knuckles under the cool water.

“Have a good time?” He asked placidly.

Finn shrugged and then splashed water on his face to clean himself up. He sniffed and then shut the water off, turning to face Tommy. “I’m having more fun than you’re havin’, sitting around here waiting for me. I remember the times when you would go out and cut people up. Now you’re all Mr. Peacekeeper,” Finn slurred.

Tommy moved to the side so Finn could leave the bathroom, but walked towards the living room and faced him again.

“I don’t go looking to cut people up, Finn. I’ve only done what I had to,” he looked down at Finn’s swollen knuckles in disapproval. “What’re you doing, getting into fist fights like some schoolyard child, eh? Pol wouldn’t like that.”

“Good thing she’s not here, then, isn’t it?” Finn started upstairs to his room, but Tommy grabbed his arm to stop him.

He searched his eyes. “Don’t be going around announcing yourself to the entire city, Finn. Not everyone here is a friend.”

“I don’t care! I don’t fucking care anymore, Tom. You’re not Pol, you’re not our da, so stop telling me what I can and can’t do! I’m an adult. Let me make my own choices.” Finn looked at his older brother challengingly.

Tommy heard Alfie purposely clear his throat to get his attention now, but Tommy didn’t need to look at him to know what he wanted him to do.

He let go of Finn and motioned for him to go upstairs if he wanted. Finn didn’t waste any more time as he stumbled up the stairs to his room. Tommy ran his hands over his partially shaven head and sighed heavily.

“I swear the devil’s in him.”

Alfie moved over to Tommy and kissed his lips softly before he searched his face. “Finn’s just angry, and takin’ it out on the city. Let him get it all out, yeah. Maybe he’ll feel better if he does.”

“I won’t feel better if he kills someone that shouldn’t have been killed. We have more enemies in this country than we did in France.”

Alfie chuckled. “Right, yeah, that’s the whole of it, innit? Finn will be all right, sweetie. Just… stop worrying about him, Tom. He can protect himself.”

Tommy didn’t want to tell Alfie how he had been the one to dig a bullet out of Finn’s shoulder That Night. He just nodded, tired of worrying about his brother. He leaned against Alfie, who embraced him tightly.

“It’s nearly dinner. Let’s make something for us. You’ll feel better once you get something real inside of you, right. Sit down and I’ll make something.”

Tommy released himself from Alfie and walked over to the alcohol tray against the wall. “Why do you have this if you don’t even drink, Alfie?” He asked tiredly, pouring himself some gin that he recognized automatically.

It was _his_ gin.

He had forgotten that he had sold some to Alfie a week before his birthday.

“Hm?” Alfie called from the kitchen as he looked back at Tommy and saw what he was talking about. “Oh, right. Well, you drink it, don’t you? I keep it for you, and guests, that I used to entertain, right. I drink on special occasions though, as well.”

Tommy gave a hum of acknowledgement and took a sip of his gin. Cure for seemingly incurable sadness, indeed.

He had finished two drinks of his gin by the time dinner was prepared and on the table. He sat down across from Alfie and started to eat the potatoes and chicken. It was the first real food he had eaten since he arrived here, and he couldn’t help but notice Alfie staring at him.

He leaned back in his seat. “Should we call Finn to dinner?”

Alfie shook his head. “I suspect the lad’s passed out upstairs by now. He can find something else to eat whenever he’s ready.”

Tommy couldn’t help but feel irked that Alfie was letting Finn run so freely around. Wasn’t there danger still? Shouldn’t they still be on their guard? He couldn’t believe that Jimmy was just going to let things be now. That would be too perfect.

“I might take Finn back to Small Heath with me tomorrow,” he announced.

Alfie twitched slightly in disapproval. “Oh, you’re leavin’ tomorrow? A bit short notice, innit?”

“We’ve stayed here for a few months now,” Tommy spoke solemnly. “I need to see my sister and make sure she’s doing all right. I can’t stay here forever, Alfie, as much as I’d like to.”

Alfie nodded as he swallowed a forkful of chicken. “Well fuck, I’ll be here all alone then, won’t I? When will you two be back?”

“By the end of the week,” Tommy answered matter-of-factly. “You’ll be fine without us, Alfie. Finn’s startin’ to go wild now. He’s tired of being cooped up in here. He should run around where he’s safer.”

“Oh yeah,” Alfie replied sarcastically now. “He’s definitely safe at home where half his family was shot, isn’t he? Christ, Tom. I think you’re making a mistake going back home.”

“What? Why? Finn needs some structure. He needs to see Ada.”

Alfie wet his lips and shook his head, looking at Tommy knowingly. “I’m not talkin’ about the lad, Tommy. I’m talking about you. Going back there is going to stir everything up for you, innit?”

“I’ll be fine, Alfie. Stop worrying about me.”

Alfie’s eyes grew soft and a weak smile lifted at the corner of his mouth. “All I ever do is worry about you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Tommy announced again, looking at him. “I just need to breathe home back into my lungs.”

Alfie sniffed. “Well, whilst you’re doing that, be fucking careful not to choke on it, right. All that coal and dust and smoke can’t be good for your already weakened lungs.”

Tommy stifled a chuckle. “Fuck off, Alfie.”

“Maybe later, sweetie.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you happen to be enjoying what you're reading, or just like to have a good cry, be a lamb and hit that subscribe button so you can be updated when I add more!


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